Type of Edward: Mythical/Dominant/Foreign Edward
Character type: OOC
Story type: Mix
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I sat on the crosspiece stone, my chin resting on my knees and my arms hooked under them, watching the woods around me darken in twilight and the edge of the moon rise above the treetops.
It was odd living with Renee again. Fortunately it had been only for a short time, and was almost over. I missed my home, in all its green shades. That thought made me smile; when I had moved to Forks, I'd thought I'd never like it there. But Renee's marriage to Phil two years before had gently-but-firmly pushed me into moving to live with my father in northwest Washington (because even a bratty fifteen-year-old can recognise that newlyweds need privacy), and now home was green, not brown, trees were gentle shelters rather than shocking behemoths, a gentle screen of clouds softened sunlight, not hid it, and water was an intrinsic part of the world that surrounded me rather than a separate thing from all others.
Water was the thing holding me away from Forks right now. A massive storm had struck the Seattle-Northwest area. As the weathermen had predicted, Forks' only real impact had been heavy wind and rain, but Dad was a worrywart, and as Forks' sheriff had volunteered to assist in the post-storm cleanup besides. So again I had gotten myself out of the way, heading off on this two-week trip to England with Renee and Phil. It had been fun, and we'd seen a lot of cool stuff, but I was happy that there were only two days to go till we went home. And in the meantime, whenever we stayed in rural bed and breakfasts, I assuaged my homesickness with long walks in the woods and treewatching, like I was doing now. Sitting here, I could almost pretend I was back and sitting on my favourite fallen treetrunk watching the moonrise, instead of on a low, natural bench of stone.
"Enjoying the view?" a low, masculine voice purred in my ear.
I jumped and twisted towards the voice, my skirt tangling about my legs and my hands scrabbling for stability. The young man sitting beside me lifted an eyebrow at my antics.
"I - yes," I said in a small voice. He was simply beautiful, his ivory skin paler even than mine, his hair in the golden light of the sunset and the moonlight a dark bronze-red-auburn, the colour of October leaves. His eyes glimmered green, moss and jade. A youth of my beloved forest, my heart's home made flesh; suddenly my heart ached anew, but it was different and I didn't know why. Reflexes made me stick out my right hand. "I'm Bella."
He smiled as he took my hand in his, simply holding it rather than shaking it. His limbs were long and slender, the flexible willow rather than the sturdy oak, the skin cool. "I am called Edward," he replied. The formality of his demeanour struck me as odd, but I was distracted by the music of his voice. "You are a stranger here." It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway.
"Yes." Something - probably good manners - made me add, "It's beautiful here."
"But you miss your forests."
"Everyone misses their home when they are away from it," I replied. Then I shook my head. "Is this your home?"
He smiled, and I almost forgot the question. "Inasmuch as anywhere is anymore," he replied softly, leaning over towards me. When he leaned over me, I instinctively leaned back, until my left hand lost it's purchase on the stone and I fell backwards, lying flat on my back on the rock, Edward over me. He swiftly leaned down that last remaining gap, and his lips met mine.
The girls at school had gossiped in the locker room about their first kisses. Wet, sloppy and boring had been among the most common adjectives used. Nobody had mentioned electrifying, bone-melting or delicious. Then again... nobody had been kissing Edward.
I tried to reach up to loop my arms over his back and bring him down closer, but he still hadn't let go of my right hand. He drew my hand up above my head and held it down against the stone.
"Ed-ward," I whined against his lips. "Let me--!"
He chuckled, and I shivered as I heard the dark tone under the chime. "No." His other hand captured my left and drew it up to its mate. Then he sat back on his heels, his thighs on either side of mine, but I couldn't pull my hands back down to reach up to him.
"Sweet Bella," he said softly. "Do you know what tonight is?"
"No," I replied. "Why did you tie me up? I only want to hold you!"
Edward ignored my words, leaning down and brushing his hand over my face. "It's Beltane, the sky is clear and --" and here he kissed me again, "there's a virgin on my altar."
I blinked up at him. "Your altar?" I faltered, but I didn't get any further before he began kissing me again. His lips scorched over my lips, cheek, chin; I barely caught my breath before his kiss was once more claiming my mouth before slipping down and along my throat.
My dress might as well have been made of paper for all the resistance it gave to his hands. I lurched up as he brought his mouth down onto my chest and then trailed lower, nibbling at my nipples. I gasped and moaned, giving half-voiced cries for him to untie me this minute, a demand met by chuckles, and to keep going, a command he seemed pleased to obey.
His hands slid further down, followed by his mouth, and as he progressed I grew steadily more incoherent, until by the time he reached my slit, I was limited to moans and gasps. His fingers were delicate as he gently, so gently, spread my flesh. He seemed mesmerised as he stroked me, dipping his long, slender fingers into my well, brushing against my bud. I bent my head to see him looking up at me, even as he lowered his mouth to where his fingers had just been.
The waves of pleasure were still pulsing through my veins when he slid up my body and he sheathed himself in me. The sudden stab of pain commingled with the pleasure made me arch and gasp, and he was considerate to pause and let me ride it out.
"You said this was your altar?" I asked him, looking into those beautiful green eyes.
He blinked. "A long time ago, humans prayed to many things. To the sun to give them warmth, to the clouds to give them rain -- and to me, the forest, to give them food. They used to offer me so many things." He smiled and brushed my face with the back of his hand. "It's been a very long time since a maiden came to me on Beltane, much less one so lovely, so forgive me if I'm a little clumsy, please?"
"You're not," I gasped, as he began to move, and the pleasure began to rise within me again.
I woke to find myself lying alone on the stone. It was hard to move -- not because I was sore, but because I was so relaxed. My clothes were rags, but I was covered with a deerskin, soft as velvet. I sat up and blinked in the predawn gloom, to see a rabbit jump down from one of the other rocks in theclearing. There was nobody else there.
Feeling suddenly desolate, I slowly wrapped the deerskin about myself and headed back to the B&B.
Spring had seemingly come overnight to the forest. Flowers bloomed alongside the path, on the trees and up the vines that made up the greenery. Birds and animals were relentlessly courting as I passed. The moss and leaves I passed brushed over my skin so softly and sensually, a pale echo of the touches I had felt the night before, and I felt even more bereft.
Sneaking into the small motel wasn't hard. I simply slipped in the back door. On this langourous morning, it seemed everybody was still asleep. The maid who was quietly wiping down the tables in the dining room for breakfast was moving as tenderly with herself as I was. A peep into Renee and Phil's room made me shut the door hastily; they had clearly spent the night doing exactly what I had.
Finally getting to my room, I quickly stripped off what remained of last night's dress, pulled on my nightdress, wrapped the deerskin around my pillow and fell to sleep, to dream of a youth with bronze-coloured hair and moss-coloured eyes, his body glorious in firelight, with the hands of a lover and wearing only a crown of oak leaves.
A few days later, I was home in Forks again, heading into the forest, to my favourite fallen tree. The deerskin, which I stashed in my handbag when I wasn't sitting on it or using it as a lap rug, was looped over my arm and I was holding a book of love poetry.
Dad had put my constant state of abstraction down to readjustment to my environment, and perhaps the aftermath of a holiday romance, come to its logical conclusion. I couldn't say that he was wrong. Of all the idiotic things I'd ever done, falling for a forest god, especially after only one night and fevered dreams thereafter, had to be up there in the top five, if not the number one.
I had stepped off the path and was almost to my perch when a rustle in the greenery ahead of me revealed that there was an animal of some kind in front of me. I stopped dead and waited.
The leaves parted and a huge red-brown wolf paced out of the disguising green and into the path ahead of me. I stared at him and he stared back at me, glancing between my face and the deerskin I was carrying. He looked oddly disappointed and betrayed, as if I had broken a promise to him.
"You have no right to be angry at her just because you were too slow to stake your claim."
I jumped. Edward stood just behind me, his eyes cold and hard as he wove his arms about me. I melted against his chest even as I continued staring at the wolf.
Sitting down, the wolf glared -- there was no other word -- at Edward.
"No, mine now," Edward continued. "If you wanted her, you had years to claim her in. She came to me. You didn't honestly think I'd be stupid enough to let her go when that happened."
The wolf growled at him.
"In things like this, there's no such thing as 'prior claim'."
The wolf flung back his head and howled, swinging around and crashing off into the depths of the forest. The sounds faded far more quickly than they would have if they had been caused by a real wolf.
Into the silence that followed, I whispered softly, "Yours now?"
Edward didn't move as he replied equally quietly in my ear, "If you want."
Twisting in his arms to face him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling myself up until we were face to face. "I want." And with that, I kissed him as passionately as I could.
"Greedy," he chided, when I pulled away to breathe.
"For you, yes," I agreed, and renewed my attack.
He pulled away this time. "Let's get off the track."
I willingly followed him as he caught my hand and pulled me off to my fallen log. He sat down on it, a king seating himself on a throne. I glanced around, looking for a place to sit, until he pulled my hand, unbalancing me and making me fall on top of him. For a long moment, I sprawled over his body. This moment was made longer by his hand on my shoulders and on the small of my back, holding me close to him. Finally I wriggled into a more comfortable position and leaned up to kiss him. His hands slid down my back, pushing at the top of my jeans, sliding beneath it and my panties to cup my rear. His fingers left trails of fire along my skin and I barely noticed when my jeans and underwear slipped down past my hips. I did, however, notice perfectly when his own loosened and slid down his thighs. I was wet and ready as he thrust up into me, without breaking our kiss.
There was no leisure in this joining. Our previous night had been without haste for all its speed, and my pleasure had been paced gently -- I now realised that Edward had been considerate of my inexperience, holding himself back. Now, in this place that was as much mine as his, where he need not be quite so careful, he wasn't. And my blood fired anew at the realisation.
His thrusts were rough and hard, slamming up against me, each one rubbing against my sweet spot inside, far too consistently to be accident. His hands were steel clamps, holding me in place. His mouth wandered up and down and over my throat, flickering fire that couldn't burn hot enough for me. The pleasure hit me suddenly -- not the anticipated, building crescendoes of our first night, but instead as sudden and as shocking in their intensity as an earthquake.
His hands were strong and gentle as he held me to him through my climax, even as he joined me there. When we both fell, breathing heavily, to the log, he smiled.
"Mine now," he whispered.
"Yours always," I replied.
1. This fic diverges from canon in that Bella comes to Forks immediately after Renee's marriage to Phil, which means she starts high school in Forks rather than transferring in in the middle of her Junior year. With the extra time, Bella is more used to Charlie as her father-figure, and has grown used to Forks.